


Art Appreciation

by supernaturallylost



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Life in the bunker, castiel learns about art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 11:57:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3409694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernaturallylost/pseuds/supernaturallylost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is blown away by the skill and athleticism of the ballet. He wants to be artistic as well, so the others try to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Art Appreciation

Cas, ever curious about the world, went to see the Nutcracker with Charlie. He came home in a state of complete shock.

“What’s wrong?” Dean jumped, rushing over to look for signs of sickness.

Charlie laughed.

“Don’t joke around with me! He looks terrified!”

Dean pulled on Cas’ chin to open his mouth. As Dean continued the examination, Charlie placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Relax, Dean,” she smiled. “We just went to the ballet. Tell him, Cas.”

Suddenly, Cas snapped out of his stupor and shook out of Dean’s grip.

“It was amazing!” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “How do they do that with their bodies? And the way they told the story was brilliant! You should have seen how athletic they were, and the sheer beauty of it!”

Charlie leaned in toward Dean and whispered, “He was crying through most of the second half.”

“It was beautiful,” Cas exclaimed. “No, it was more than beautiful! There’s no word for the majesty of it!”

“Well,” Dean relaxed, “maybe you could take some beginner ballet lessons.”

Cas froze, but then waved his hand. “I’m far too old for that. And besides, I could never master that level of artistry.”

“Maybe there’s a different form of art you can learn,” Charlie suggested.

The next day, Cas was covered with paint and charcoal. As he worked, Kevin talked to Dean in the other room.

“I took an art class once,” Kevin nodded. “I thought I could teach him a thing or two.”

“How’s it going with him?” Dean asked.

Kevin led him in to see Cas’ painting.

“Does this answer your question?”

Cas bit his lip. “What do you think, Dean?”

“Is that,” he began. “Is that a dog on top of a tree?”

Cas looked down with dismay. “It’s a self-portrait.”

The next day, Sam introduced Cas to sketching.

“It takes a light touch at first, and then you can always shade in different… Cas, what are you doing?”

Cas held up his drawing when Dean walked into the room.

“Oh,” Dean said with exaggerated pride, “is it another self-portrait?”

Cas sighed. “It’s a still-life of this fruit bowl.”

On the third day, Cas sat alone in the library. Absentmindedly, he grabbed pieces of paper and crumpled them. When Dean walked in, he barely moved.

“Cas, what is that smell?” Dean sniffed the air again.

“I’m making dinner tonight, to give you a rest. I thought I’d make a cheese-stuffed burger in the oven and then we’d have the pie I made earlier.”

Dean beamed at Cas, walked over, and sat beside him.

“You’re an artist,” Dean smiled.

With a sarcastic huff, Cas said, “Right. I can’t paint, I can’t sketch, I can’t do ballet.”

“How do you know you can’t do ballet? Did you try it?”

Cas raised up his broken ankle as he tilted his head.

“Well,” Dean recovered, “you are still an artist. You’re a chef.”

“Food isn’t art,” Cas said. “When I watched the ballet, I was so surprised and emotional and involved. Cooking doesn’t do that.”

“Sure it does! I feel emotional at even the thought of pie!” Dean grinned. “And food is always surprising. Even if you use a recipe, it will turn out differently every single time. And as for being involved, food is meant to be eaten, to be shared. I’d say we’re all gonna be pretty involved in that.”

Cas smiled. “You really think so?”

“Sure,” Dean nodded. “You’re an artist just as much as anyone else.”

Cas frowned. “Are you an artist?”

Dean wavered, but then he nodded. “I think so. I mean, it might not be glorious, but I am a damn good mechanic. I make fixing cars into an art form.”

Cas smiled and sighed. “Thanks, Dean.”

Dean leaned forward slowly and whispered, “Just give me the biggest slice of pie, okay?”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments welcome always!


End file.
